Forgotten Memories
by Rurikredwolf
Summary: Remake of an old story. Hope died the day the purple dragon and his mate did. An old enemy has returned, and a secret group led by Terrador has been formed to combat him. Terrador manages to recover Cynder's body, and uses an ancient ritual to breathe new life into her. Yet, it goes wrong; she has forgotten who she was along with the secrets she kept about their returned foe...
1. The End (Prologue)

**Wow. Long time no see, huh? Anyway, this story has been burning in my head for a while, and as such, I give you this little teaser/prologue. As I stated, this is a remake of another story I did of the same name. Similarities will be shown, but it also deviates. I am currently focused on Original stories atm, but I am keeping this as a little side project. Depending on how well this is received, I may update frequently, or not very often.**

**Anywho, keep an open mind on this story. Thanks!**

Wrong.

Everything was wrong with this scenario. The trees, the very air the purple dragon breathed was poisoned. His amethyst eyes were widened in fear and disbelief. He had to be dreaming! There was no possible way that this could be happening! Yet, the beating of his heart against broken ribs and the blood that ran down his purple scales told him that this was not the case.

Before him, the nightmare of his life unveiled through the thick, blinding, green mist. There, Cynder, an ebony scaled female dragon with ruby red underbelly scales, breathed her last breath. A plagued, corrupted tail spike lay burred in her misection, twisting and turning. Rotten flesh hung from the tail itself, revealing decayed muscle and bone. As for the owner...

"Really, this is the best you two could do now?" A chilly, raspy voice asked with a psychotic giggle. "When you two were whelps you were stronger. The hell happened?"

This was asked by someone that Spyro hoped never to see again; Malefor. At least...the broken, reanimated corpse of him. Dull remains of purple scales clung to his body like ragged cloth, rotten muscle tissue lay exposed, and his mouth forever bore a skeletal smile. Green, plagued eyes stared at Spyro with wicked intent, what little facial muscles twisted into mad delight.

Spyro found it impossible to answer, choking up blood as his vision momentarily went dizzy. His once golden underbelly was stained scarlet with the wounds inflicted upon him, and it was a miracle that he had even made it to his claws. The death of his mate should have inspired him, but it instead crushed what hope he had and scattered the remains in the wind. He felt lightheaded and could faint at any moment, but with what little strength he had, he gave his nemesis one final glare.

Malefor's head tilted to the side, allowing Spyro to see that part of his neck had rotted through. It was a ghastly sight, to say the least. Ripping out the blade none-too-gently, Malefor approached the purple dragon. His claws skittered like a dance, the sinew that connected the digits painfully exposed. Spyro felt the urge to vomit when Malefor licked his tail blade.

"Exquisite..." He purred with delight. "I wonder how you will taste. I am so hungry, you know. I don't even care if I can't process the food...urges are urges. I'm sure you can understand."

Spyro felt a final burst of pain in his chest. Glancing down, he saw saw Malefor's tail spike burst through his ribs and strike his heart. It was so excruciating that Spyro felt...nothing. His limbs slacked and his jaw opened in shock. Falling to the side like a sack of bricks, Spyro futility gasped for air from the withered ground.

Malefor glanced down with false sympathy. "Oh no, whatever shall I do? Should I let you slowly die, or should I finish you now? Choices, choices! Oh how I wish for a coin!"

To Spyro's shock, Malefor grabbed the barely-alive purple dragon and lifted his limp body without any difficulty. Spyro spat blood into the undead monstrosity's face, but it didn't seem to phase him. In fact, he relished it.

"Hmm...I suppose I should give a reason for this little resurrection of mine." Malefor pondered. "Give you something to dwell upon before you fade away. After all, you are the same as I, right? Well, minus the rotten flesh. Listen closely, 'savior', because this is really going to ruin that title."

Before Malefor could speak, fire raged in the distant mists. It seemed to be getting closer, along with various shouts. Malefor let out a banshee-like hiss, diseased fangs clicking in frustration. Spyro noticed that he was looking at Cynder, but for some reason, decided not to grab her body as well.

"Oop, time's up. I guess you die without knowing. Too bad, so sad, not really." Malefor said with a wave of his withered wing as the other claw struck Spyro under his neck. A sense of emptiness washed over him as comforting blackness whisked him away to oblivion.  
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	2. Ruins of Warfang

**Wow, I updated. I am shocked. So shocked that I am not cuz I wanted to do it. Anywho, I decided to go with shorter chapters for faster updates. Or would you guys rather me go for longer chapters but take longer with updating? Let me know! I'm a feedback whore, so don't be afraid to say anything!**

Rain poured over the Ruins of Warfang. Thunder clapped to the lightning's dance, creating a soft rumble that felt like tiny earthquake. The elementals were in a fit of rage of late; like they were mourning and lashing out upon the world. At least, that's what green-scaled dragon thought was he adjusted the dark hood on him.

Terrador couldn't believe any of this could have happened. First Ignitus dies ten years ago...and now Malefor's sudden return along with the deaths of the ones who stopped him before. All of this, including the destruction of Warfang, came so suddenly. They were not prepared.

The ones vibrant streets were ghostly. Only memories brought this city to life...memories that brought pain and mourning for what was lost. The smooth pavement was torn and bumpy, causing the cart he brought to clang loudly behind him. He took a glance back, his hood tilting backwards to reveal a horrible scar across his muzzle as he observed the blue tarp that covered the back.

"It's alright; nothing happened." A male voice reassured him as a fiery red scaled face poked from behind the carriage. His bright, sapphire contradicted the gaunt, haggard condition he was in; Terrador wished he could retain the same optimism.

"Thank you...er..." Terrador struggled to remember the code-name. His brain tried to go for something complex, not-.

"Flame." The dragon replied with a whispy smile. "So, how much longer do we have to go, Rock? Kinda uncomfortable back here."

Rock...it was so baffling that he didn't know what to think of it. Code-names were a necessity nowadays, as Terrador's own name would bring unholy creatures crashing down upon them. The names given were more amusing when the creator of them was by far one of the most creative dragons he knew. It was like he had to try to think of them.

"Not much; I can see the statue..." Terrador turned his head back, adjusting the harness around him.

There, before him near what used to be the Great Warfang River, which ran directly through the city, lay the crumpled gold statue of Spyro. It was created after the purple dragon had nearly sacrificed his life to create what he described to be a 'World Magnet'. By bringing the plates back together, he saved everyone he could. After that, he and Cynder, who was also at the point of impact, disappeared for a year or two. Then, they returned, nearly adults, as mates. In their honor, two statues were erected, on both sides of Warfang to symbolize their protection. Now, what false protection they gave was shattered much like the golden claw at Terrador's talons.

Passing it by, Terrador examined the remains of a large building that completely blocked the path. A simple fly over would allow him to bypass it, but he couldn't with the...'cargo'...he carried. Terrador instead planted his strong limbs upon the ground and locked the muscles. His eyes flashed an earthly yellow before a large boulder sticking halfway out of the remains surged out before rolling to a halt.

There, a large passage opened up before him. Instead of moved, Terrador had other plans for the rubble. Ushering Flame and the carriage in, Terrador had to pat himself on the back again. The walls were glazed and designed in such a way that they wouldn't collapse, and he had partially restored parts of the rooms. Granted, they were on their side, but what remained served as a foundation for what few survivors still lived here.

The path eventually led down underground. Terrador cautiously made sure that the cart would not slip forwards during the descent. What seemed like an eternity later, his claws finally hit the bottom, where moisture clung like moss to the floors and ceilings. Terrador allowed himself a shiver, the sudden frigid air like a slap in the face. Yet, he saw a bright orange light before him, and he couldn't help a tiny grin.

The welcoming warmth of a fire greeted him, followed by the sizzling scent of fish. Although Terrador never fancied himself as an aquatic eater, they had become a delicacy in these times. Two dragons sat before the fire, one of them an electric gold scheme, and another a much brighter shade of green than Terrador. The latter turned her head back and seemed to understand the silent gesture that the other made with his purple horned head.

"Ah, there you are." Terrador and Flame were greeted by the swift-paced voice of the yellow dragon.

"Evening, Volteer." Terrador answered quietly. "May I speak to you and Cyril in the council room?"

Volteer's face fell, his already sleek muzzle seeming much thinner. He seemed to be looking behind Terrador, trying to find someone. Terrador knew exactly who he was searching for, and bit his lower lip. This...this was going to be a long night.

"Viberion, go get some rest." Terrador told the younger dragon, who instantly understood what Terrador meant.

"Call me if you need me." He said as he departed down a dimly lit hallway, his orange-yellow horns bobbing up and down.

"I suspect we'll be doing that quite soon." Terrador replied quietly, gesturing the eccentric electric dragon to follow him, the cart slowly creaking along.

"Cyril is already in the room from what he told me before." Volteer informed, emerald eyes flickering to the cart. "Must you bring that along? It is making such a racket! I had just put the hatchlings to sleep, so I would appreciate some oil or gel on the axle!"

"Believe me, it's the exact reason for the meeting."

"Surely you could just carry part of it in; you're burly enough." Volteer observed Terrador's muscular limbs from under the cloak.

"Volteer, can you please trust me on this one?" Terrador answered with frustration. "Today has already been horrible enough; I don't need needless complaints!"

Volteer silenced himself, but Terrador knew it wouldn't be long before he opened his maw once again. Volteer was by far one of the clever, sharp minds the earth dragon ever met. His mind raced at a hundred miles an hour, and by the elements did he let that show. There were times where Terrador couldn't even understand him due to his speedy speeches. To top it off, his creativity knew no bounds.

Which made it extra shocking when he gave Terrador the name 'Rock'.

Soon, they stood before a massive wooden door. The condensation made it puffy and wet, as well as a tad hard to open. It was only temporary, though; Terrador had commissioned what little Manweresmalls that remained to build a better door. It should be done by next week, but given the working conditions, he didn't expect it for another month.

Moving past them, Terrador stood in a circular room very reminiscent of the old temple. A pool of visions lay in the center, and despite none of them being able to use it like Spyro or Ignitus could, it did allow for quiet contemplation. Terrador had restored it as he believed that they would find someone who could use it eventually. Now...he didn't know what to believe.

"Must you bring that in?" A cold, accented voice asked as an icy blue dragon stared from the shadows, flickers from the torches casting lines across his muzzle.

"You will understand, Cyril." Terrador assured as a thin layer of ice cracked on the new dragon as he began to move. It fell like glass, shattering on the ground into thousands of pieces.

"I'd better." Cyril cricked his neck and stretched. "I notice you are alone; Where are Spyro and Cynder?"

Terrador felt pain surge through him like a white hot needle. He knew it was coming, but he wanted to prolong it as long as he could. It was stupid, now he faced reality. Without looking at Volteer and Cyril, Terrador shut the doors, and with a sigh, took off the tarp.

Silence filled the room like a black void. Volteer had paled, and Cyril's face had broken like the ice that was on him. There, laying in the cart on her back, was the corpse of Cynder. Her body was still warm, and her scales had only just began to dull. Wounds from claws could be seen on various parts of her body, but they were minor compared to the large, infected stab wound on her stomach.

"Spyro could not be found, but there were other splotches of blood along with a few of his scales." Terrador replied to the unasked question.

"I-Impossible..." Cyril barely choked out, eyes wide with fear and despair.

"Inconceivable." Volteer blinked ten times in a row before slapping himself.

"I brought her corpse here because I couldn't leave it out there, and I kept it hidden because what little hope the survivors had is now shattered." Terrador turned away. "I...I couldn't let them see that yet."

"No, you are right..." Cyril admitted after a moment. "I...I still can't quite believe it. I...what do we do?"

"I don't know." Terrador admitted. "We're at a loss now; they figured out the reasoning behind the attacks, and now..."

"Now they were assassinated." Volteer finished somberly, his voice slower than normal. "Not even I have the faintest idea of what to do."

"We need to bury her...we can't have her rotting in here...tis demeaning." Cyril pointed out. "If Spyro is still alive...not even I want to think of his reaction.

The room fell silent afterwards. The cold, beige stone walls felt even colder, and the ceiling appeared to sag in mourning. Terrador's mind froze, staring at the two of them. Neither of them seemed to even know what emotion to convey. Terrador himself couldn't exactly inspire them to continue on; hell, he half expected this meeting to be the very last.

Volteer put a claw on her cheek. "Still warm...how long ago did this happen?"

"My guess is an hour ago; maybe two." Terrador answered solemnly.

Volteer bobbled his head up and down. "Alright, alright...I think I understand."

Cyril raised a scaly eyeridge. "Understand what?"

Volteer looked the two of them in the eye. He hesitated for a moment, but then came out with the most insane idea Terrador ever heard him sprout. "I believe I can resurrect her."

"How?" Both Terrador and Cyril asked, not even bothering to hide their disbelieving expressions.

"I remember reading it in a book in the old Warfang Library." Volteer explained, pacing back and forth. His black wings twitched in both anticipation and nervousness. "There, it speaks of an old ritual used to bind spirit to body once more."

Terrador sighed. The shock must have sent poor Volteer over the edge. The best he could do is humor him at this rate. A quick glance at Cyril told the Earth Warder that the Ice Guardian was about to tear his idea to shreds. Before Cyril could talk, though, Terrador stepped on his claw and shook his head disapprovingly. Cyril rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"So you speak of necromancy?" Cyril practically spat out before Terrador could stop it. "You know that magic is forbidden! Look what happened with Malefor!"

"Yes, I am aware." Volteer bobbled his head. "I am not entirely certain if this is true resurrection or necromancy. However, we need her alive if we are to put a stop to Malefor and whatever brought him back."

Terrador bit his lip again. It was true; something had to have brought Malefor back. There was no way he could resurrect himself. That was what Spyro and Cynder went to find out.

"So, what do we do if this ritual works?" Terrador questioned. "What if she is an undead and her psyche breaks like Malefor's? What do we do then?"

"It is a risk..." Volteer put his purple tail-blade under his chin. "Yet, what choice do we have? If she is truly tormented and wishes to die, we will grant her that wish. I am not going to make her suffer needlessly."

Then, Volteer's eyes snapped. "Cyril, freeze the body before the brain deteriorates! We will need her as preserved as possible!"

"What about the wound?" Terrador pointed out as he gently lifted Cynder's body from the cart. She looked like she was simply having a nightmare and would wake shortly.

"We will deal with it AFTER we are prepared!" Volteer snapped as Cyril breathed frigid air upon the corpse. Terrador had to turn away.

"So..what makes you think that Malefor left the library intact?" Terrador raised an eyeridge.

"Please, no one reads anymore. Plus, it wouldn't be in the public area; it'd be locked away where only a Guardian could enter." Volteer replied swiftly, continuing his pacing. He was muttering something so fast under his breath that Terrador felt like time itself had slowed.

"We will need a new Guardian for the ritual to work." He finally said. "I distinctly remember four elements being required, and there are three of us here."

Terrador knew that he'd have to open that can of worms eventually. Neither them wanted to replace Ignitus or Spyro, who decided to stay as Fire Guardian before Malefor. Cynder had become the new Tempest Guardian, as they had sorely lacked one since before Malefor's second rise. Terrador grimaced; he knew who he wanted to be the new Guardian, but the problem was convincing the others.

"We may as well elect a new Guardian, even if it is temporary." Terrador said with a small twinge of inspiration. Spyro may possibly still be alive.

"I don't see much of a choice in the matter." Volteer readily agreed.

"I don't see much of a point." Cyril replied cynically, having just gotten done freezing Cynder's body in a thick block of ice. Her wings were folded over her chest, and claws locked in between. Terrador hoped that they didn't cause more damage by freezing her.

"Cyril, would you rather lay on your back and await death, or at least go out with an earnest try?" Volteer shot back. "I will forever remain hopeful; even if you two give up, I don't see the reason for throwing away our efforts."

"Volteer is right." Terrador approached the Ice Guardian to assist in moving Cynder. He spied a shadowed corner that would do well in keeping her hidden. "The refugees still need us."

Cyril didn't say anything, which was both good and bad. Terrador let out an internal sigh. Volteer's crazy idea was the only shred of chance they had, and it made him feel the need to be commited by even going along with it. Hearing nothing but silence from the two of them, Terrador moved forward with his nomination.


	3. The New Guardian

**Bet you all thought I was dead. Well, no. I just haven't had the motivation to do it, and the lack of response for the previous chapter really discouraged me. But, this idea wouldn't let me go, so I caved. So tada. **

He was in a large room, which acted like the gym or playground area. It was dirty, the floor was cracked, and the ceiling looked like it could give at any moment...but then again, what didn't? He'd called the place home for two years now, and he trusted Terrador's word that it wouldn't suddenly cave.

Torches lined the walls, giving it an eerie feel. Despite his playful expression and mirth in his eyes, he kept a very cautionary eye on any shadows. Although it had been a year since the last intrusion of the Necrolites, he didn't dare give in to comfort. Especially given the young dragon before him lying on his back, ball in maw.

The dragon looked no older than six cycles, and had his orange-red scales. However, she had a bit of a golden underbelly, and spiraled horns like her mother. Her green eyes shone like emeralds, and her tail, which ended in a spike that faintly resembled a heart, wagged furiously. Viberian's gaze grew sober when he looked at her neck; there, a golden necklace in the shape of a heart hung.

The sorrow he felt quickly vanished when she sprang to her claws, shaking off some dirt. Unlike her mother, this young dragon didn't seem to mind the dirt and grime. In fact, she sometimes seemed to relish it. His mate didn't complain, but he could definitely feel her unease.

"Would ya stop throwing the ball so gosh darn hard?" The tiny voice of Viberian's daughter squeaked. "Hard to catch when it's going a gajillon miles an hour!"

"I don't think gajillon is a word, Gravia..."

"It is now!"

Viberian rolled his eyes with a smiling shake of his head, assisting her in standing up. Maybe she was right; maybe it was a bit too fast. He couldn't tell anymore...the shock of the body he had seen today sent him off the rails. Sure he hid it very well, but all he could see was Cynder's desecrated body, the touch of her cooling scales, the scent of decay from the wound...it washed over him at once.

All he could do now was make his daughter feel as comfortable as he could before Malefor comes back. It was inevitable now. If those two couldn't stop him, what chance did he have? He was half tempted to grab Gravia and run, but he couldn't just abandon Terrador and everyone...could he? No, he'd be run down and killed before he could.

"Dad?" Gravia looked up at him with worry. Viberian couldn't help but let a smile tug at his muzzle when he looked into her eyes. Neither he nor his mate had those eyes...no, they were the eyes of Viberian's own father. Looking at them just brought a flood of good memories...maybe his father was still alive.

"Hey, sorry about gazing off there." Viberian dipped his head lower to nuzzle her. "Just a long day out there."

"Did you beat up some zombies?" Gravia asked expectantly.

He laughed. "A few."

"Good!" She beamed at him. "Do you wanna take a nap?"

"I should be asking you that question." Viberian peered at her with one eye. "I heard you up past your bed time last night..."

She froze. "No I wasn't!"

"Mhm..." He pressed her gently.

"I wasn't!"

"Uh huh, then who's little claws did I hear skittering around last night?"

Gravia saw that she had no possible way of defending herself. So what did she do? Why, make up excuses! "I was thirsty!"

Viberian highly doubted that, but he decided to let it slide. It may very well be the truth. He didn't have the energy to properly punish right this second; besides, if she stayed up all night and was tired all day, then that was her fault. She'd be punishing herself.

Heavy clawsteps from behind alerted him to Terrador's presence. There was no possible way he could mistake those steps. Cricking his neck, Viberian stood tall at the approaching green-scaled guardian. Although Terrador was smiling, the shadows under his eyes and lines that creased his face showed the true toll this place had. Still, he couldn't help but wonder the big grin.

"Did I miss something?" Viberian greeted with humor.

"Not just yet." Terrador shook his head. His claw was firmly closed around an object.

"Then...what brings you here?" The fiery dragon tilted his head to the side.

"He obviously wants to play, dad..." Gravia chipped from his side.

Both adults chuckled at the comment. "No, not today Gravia." Terrador answered. "I have important news for your father, though. You may stay, though, if you like."

"Okie." Gravia laid on her stomach, bouncing the ball between her claws.

"What's going on?" Viberian whispered to Terrador. "Did she wake up or something?"

Terrador shook his massive head. "No, not yet. Volteer has a plan, though, and we'll need your help."

"Of course." Viberian gave him a military nod. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you...to accept this." Terrador extended his claw, opened it to reveal...

"You're kidding me, right?" Viberian's jaw dropped.

There, clutched in his claw, was a shimmering fire-orange sphere. It illuminated both of them, and some of the surrounding area in a warm glow. Churning fire, looking much like a hurricane, made up the inside. Untapped potential covered every inch, and he knew exactly what this was; this right here would make him a Fire Guardian. By absorbing it, he would have his own abilities boosted, as well as new abilities. From what he heard, though, he would have to learn those on his own.

"It was unanimous." Terrador explained. "Do you accept?"

Viberian hesitated, looking at his daughter. Fire from the orb flickered in her wide eyes, which were stuck on him. Giving her a tiny smile, he placed a claw on the stone. Ready to absorb it, he took it from Terrador and shut his eyes, ready for it to take him over.

Nothing happened.

Cracking open an eye, he saw Terrador staring with amusement. "It doesn't work like that." He laughed loudly.

"Right...I knew that..." Viberian replied sheepishly.

"You were right about the concentrating part, but you need to be in the sanctum for it to work." Terrador told him. "You know where it is."

"Why does it need to be there, out of curiosity?" Viberian gestured Gravia to follow him. She skittered along quietly, allowing the two dragons to talk.

"It's been blessed by us to be our 'home', if you want to call it that." Terrador informed, walking alongside Viberian. "Whenever Guardians make a base, temple, or wherever...it is customary to cast a little spell that binds a bit of your essence to it. You'll understand soon enough."

Viberian nodded understandingly, bending low to catch Gravia, who had tripped over a rock. She really was tired. Placing her on his back, he continued his walk with Terrador. He seemed to sense his next question, and answered it before it could be asked.

"Yes, your daughter is allowed in, but cannot this time." He said somberly. "You know why; I'd recommend leaving her with someone."

Viberian let out a sigh. It was true. "Do you want to go see your friend...umm...what was his name again..." Viberian struggled to remember the name of the young dragon that had come in the other week. His family was new, and he hadn't seen them around too often. Their son was nice, though.

When he didn't get an answer, Viberian knew exactly what had happened. He gestured to her, and Terrador nodded silently.

"Meet you there." He said as Viberian took a turn to the left, towards the sleeping quarters.

It was circular in shape, with makeshift doors and crude walls separating the dorms. It was barely enough to sleep in, but then again, not many were in them for any other reason. Always work to be done, and those who had hatchlings were usually scrambled after them when they decided to be adventurous. Viberian knew that from personal experience.

His dorm had a drawing of himself and Gravia on the metal slate that acted as a door. Gravia had done it in her spare time, and both of them were smiling. A noticeable lack of her mother could be seen; even at a young age, she understood. He didn't lie to himself; he was impressed at how mature she could be at times.

Viberian gently put the metal to the side, walking inside. It was nice and cool here, but also very small. There was barely enough room for him to move around in. Spotting a small bed of hay with a torn blanket, he placed Gravia in and tucked her in. She didn't seem to mind. Giving her a gentle nuzzle as if to say good night, Viberian closed the door and made his way to the Guardian Room.

"Ah, you made it!" Volteer's face was the first thing that greeted Viberian. He nearly leapt back in shock, yellow tail blade ready to strike. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Cyril slowly place his muzzle in a claw.

"Yeah, Gravia will be out for a few hours." Viberian said slowly, trying to calm himself down.

"Good, good, because after this, I have a task for you." Volteer told him as Viberian pushed past the swift-talking dragon. Holding out the sphere, he stepped over to the pools of vision. He had never seen one personally, and he stopped for a moment to properly look at himself.

It had been at least a solid two weeks since he saw a reflection. His face was haggard, and the golden spikes that grew under his chin haven't been trimmed in forever. His shoulder spikes looked rusty and pale, much like the rest of his body, and his face fell more when he noted the scar on his neck. It looked like a bite, and the scales around it were fractured.

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and concentrated. An unknown feeling swept over him like a powerful gust, and he felt fire surge through his system like blood. Suddenly, the floor didn't feel so cold. The moisture in the air didn't cling to him as much. His stance grew much more confident as fiery energy overcame him.

Opening his eyes a bit, he saw that his eyes glowed like a dancing fire. Slowly, they reverted back their original color, but it was still breathtaking. His scales were back to their normal color, and the shine in his golden horns and shoulders were back. He still looked like hell, but at least he was healthier. Spreading his wings, he was taken aback to note that fiery symbols appeared on them, shining brightly in the dim lights. Much like his eyes, they slowly faded, becoming nearly invisible.

The claw that grasped the sphere now held nothing. The energy had been transferred entirely to him. He felt absolutely incredible! Like he could take on double the amount of Necrolites and walk away without a scratch! He quickly calmed himself before he did anything rash, though.

"Huh...was I that dramatic when I was his age?" Cyril asked Terrador, who nodded. "Ah well."

"As a Guardian, you have a higher resistance to illness and an even greater resistance to fire." Volteer explained to him, growing serious. "That does not make you immune, though. Fire can still kill you, and you are vulnerable to the Necrolite Bite. Tread carefully."

"I think if I was vulnerable, I would have turned ages ago..." Viberian indicated to the bite.

"That does not mean you are immune; it may have been a low dose." Volteer continued to stretch the point.

"I think he understands." Cyril of all dragons came to his rescue.

"Ahem, very well." Volteer cleared his throat, walking over to a shaded part of the room. There, Viberian could see an icy figure...no, it was impossible. Terrador couldn't have possibly...

"This, is your first duty." Volteer gestured to the frozen Cynder. She looked like she was simply sleeping, minus the hole in her gut. "I need you to accompany myself and Terrador to the old library to look up a book to bring her back to life."

"We're gonna what now?" Viberian had to ask. Was this a sick joke?

"Volteer believes there is a ritual to bring her back to life." Cyril explained. "I personally have my doubts, but Terrador pointed out that our options are slim. We haven't much of a choice; she knows why this event is happening, and if she desires death after this, then it is our solom duty to carry that request."

Viberian didn't like it one bit. "So we are going to be no better than Mali over there?" Viberian asked sourly.

"Desperate times." Terrador answered bluntly. It was true, no matter how anyone looked at it.

"I'll help, but I don't condone this." Viberian grudgingly decided. "On the condition that we burn the book after the goal is complete. The dead should stay dead, no matter how much we want them back..." Viberian trailed off for a moment.

"None of us relish this task, Viberian." Volteer placed a comforting claw on his shoulder. "Once this war with Malefor is over again, I will personally assist you in burning it."

Viberian stared hard into the purple eyes of the Electric guardian. He found no deciete or secrets. He spoke the truth. The settled it for him. Glancing at the other Guardians, he planted his claws on the ground firmly, adjusting to the new role.

"So...what are we waiting for?"


	4. Disturbing Discoveries

**So...uh...this section dead? Cuz...er...I got nothin. Ah well. I'll post here anyway for a bit. Shocked that I got more attention on Deviantart than here**

Viberian stood before the hidden entrance to the Library, gaze locked on it in surprise. In all of the time that he had been down to the lower section of the Refugee, he never would have suspected this to be it. It was a plain sheet of rock that strongly resembled part of the wall. That was it.

The lower section of the Refugee was off limits to most; it was rocky, uneven land, which was strangely fitting in a way considering that it was the remains of an asylum. Scattered bars and chains lay rusted under rubble, and Viberian swore he saw a skeletal claw or two. Supposedly, this was just the top floor of the Asylum, which had been buried completely when Malefor ripped through before. Who knew what lurked in the haunted remains? Viberian didn't want to find out.

"This path will lead us to the basement of the Library." Volteer explained as he pulled a lever, adjusting a satchel around his neck; seeing him do that made Viberian mimic him. The wall slid open loudly, causing dust and small particles to fall from the ceiling. Viberian had to cover his ears.

"How long has it been since you made this path?" Viberian asked Terrador, who looked strangely distant.

"I created it as an emergency exit in case we were overrun." Terrador snapped back into reality. "It will lead to the Library, which has enough space to create a decent sanctuary. As much as Volteer hates hearing this, the books will create enough fire to last us months."

Volteer stiffened at that statement, shooting Terrador a scowl. Cyril rolled his eyes while Viberian chuckled to himself.

"However, there will be a change of plans." Terrador suddenly announced as Cyril started to step inside. "I will not be going."

"...Why?" Cyril slowly turned his head back.

"In the unlikely event of something dreadful happening, there must be someone that is looked up to." Terrador explained swiftly. "I must remain here and keep the survivors going. You three are talented enough to handle most Necrolites."

"Very well." Volteer broke the silence that fell between them with a curt nod. "We shall return by the morrow at the latest! If not…well, we will!"

Terrador cracked a thin smile. "I'll expect you then."

The large earth dragon turned claw, waving with his wing-claw as he departed up a hidden staircase. Suddenly, Viberian felt a lot less safe. Not that he didn't trust the other two guardians, but rather that this is was his first time with the two. He had no idea how Cyril or Volteer fought, or what stealth mechanics they used. Better now than never he supposed, but it did little to ease his mind.

Realizing that he was falling behind, Viberian raced down the hall to catch up with them. The crude cobblestone steps were uneven under his mass, and were dangerously slick. The air became thicker and colder with every step, sending shivers down the newly appointed Guardian's spine. His body tensed, expecting a Necrolite to top out of the walls like a cannonball.

Eventually, they reached the bottom, but the path didn't grow wider. Rather, it curved slightly to the left. Twisting his head behind him, Viberian couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. His lip snarled in uncertainty, and he very briefly shut his eyes to calm his racing heart. This only led him to properly think of the scenario he was in.

Spyro and Cynder were dead. He saw Cynder's corpse himself twice now; fresh and as an icicle. Now he was going on a crazy mission to bring her back to life. What in the hell happened in the past two hours? Was this a strange dream? He pinched his shoulder; nope, it was reality. He still didn't believe it, though.

Suddenly, Volteer started generating light, acting much like Sparx or whatever the dragonfly's name was. Only, this time he could see where he was going and Volteer was a much more reliable guide than the bug. Come to think of it…where did Sparx go? He left with Spyro, but there wasn't a corpse. Did he get snatched up or turn tail and run like the coward he was?

"Almost there." Cyril whispered back. "You alright back there?"

"This isn't my first away mission." Viberian laughed nervously. "By far the weirdest, though."

"You and I both." Cyril grunted.

Silence once more blanketed them. Although, now Viberian felt the hall expand and watched Cyril step to the right of Volteer, stopping short for some reason. When he walked beside them, though, he got his answer; he was standing on the literal end of the hall. Glancing down, he saw nothing but blackness. Whilst looking down, he accidently kicked over a tiny rock. He silently braced himself for the echo…but heard nothing. Nothing to signify it hit a bottom. This realization made him pale.

"Did you think that the largest Library in the world would be tiny?" Cyril chuckled at Vibrian's reaction.

"Take this." Volteer suddenly gave him a lantern of a sort. It was tiny, and had a handle that could both fit in his maw or claw depending. Inside, though, was a clear crystal. To make matters worse…where did Volteer get this from?

"Where did you get these?" Viberian made a futile attempt to get it activated.

"Oh, they were down here." Volteer explained casually. "Spares in case we need to venture." Then, he shook his head at Viberian. "No, no…you use your element on it! It will absorb it and generate light! For example…"

Volteer stopped glowing and channeled the energy to his maw, breathing softly on the crystal. At first, nothing happened, but a yellow light began to form inside of the crystal. Sure enough, the surrounding twenty yards were now visible. Intrigued, Viberian breathed tiny licks of flame, generating an orange glow. Playing the lantern into his maw, he saw Cyril create an icy blue one.

"Follow me!" Volteer announced as he spread his wings, taking off into the darkness before them.

Viberian once again felt a tingle on his spine, and glancing down he swore he saw the corneas of a Necrolite illuminated by the light. It was too brief to tell, though. What he was sure of, though, was that this library was god damn massive! It was like a sea of books! Mountains of them lay strewn about, only visible for a brief moment, and tall shelves contained much more! It was like out of a fairy tale! The legends were true of this place!

Volteer banked right, landing on what remained of a floor. The ground crumbled under Viberian's claws when he landed, this time creating a dull echo. Taking apprehensive steps forward, he reached a fork. There was either right or left. Books filled with occult symbols in their titles collected dust both on the floor and in their shelves. Despite the contents, books were a sight for sore eyes. Volteer appeared unnaturally giddy, unable to keep still as he traveled from book to book.

"I'll start at the far left." Cyril announced to the two of them. "Viberian, you start down right. Volteer…try not to let your eyes wander." Then, he paused. "Volteer, you never told us the name of the book, did you?"

"Spirit and Body Volume Three." Volteer was too busy flipping through a spell book to look at the two of them. Rolling his eyes with amusement, Viberian started to the right, coughing slightly from the dust that kicked up with every step. Here, he noted that the floor was tilted slightly to the right. It didn't look stable enough to hold more than ten. Gravia could likely drop through the floor if she bounced enough.

The air grew colder the more he separated from the other two. He eventually reached a decaying wall that signified the end, but he felt much more anxious. He could still see their lights, so it provided a little comfort. Shrugging it off, he picked out the first book he saw; The Occult and You: A Beginner's Guide to the Lost Arts! Viberian suppressed a laugh at the title.

Moving up and down the shelves, he found nothing to help with the search. Of course he found Necromancy; it was almost a given. He doubted that a zombie Cynder would go over well with the Refugee, though…especially when she might latch her fangs onto a head. It was an amusing thought, though. Curious, though, he took a quick flip through the book and was repulsed at the rituals. Wyvern's heart as an ingredient? Ugh.

He did find one that specialized in wards and sigils. Perhaps Volteer could make use of them; couldn't hurt to try. Holding the book in his wing claw, he continued to search. Nothing of interest sprang out at him other than summoning elemental spirits. Perhaps being a Guardian gave him the ability to summon them? He snatched it up just in case, placing it in his satchel with the other book.

He definitely was not going to find something called Spirit and Body in this section. From the title, it sounded monk-like...not Elementalism or Necromancy. Still, he didn't want to pass up anything just in case. He stifled a yawn; it was going to be a long night.

The sound of something clicked made his freeze in his search. Something was on the platform with him. A quick glance at the other two Guardians showed that they were none-the-wiser. Volteer in particular was too absorbed in tossing books around like a maniac. Viberian was on his own.

Slowly placing the lantern down, Viberian twisted around at a snail's pace as if not to alert what was already here. Sure enough, his eyes locked onto a Necrolite, who sat much like a hatchling would when staring at a parents. The Necrolite had chunks of rotting flesh falling off the body, but Viberian could tell that this poor dragon didn't make it past fifteen. The dead, white eyes stared at Viberian, almost expecting him to attack.

Viberian didn't, though. The Necrolite was just at the edge of his vision, and who knew what others lurked in the darkness? They both stared as if it were a contest, trying to see who would break first. An echoing chirp came from the Necrolite; it sounded almost innocent-like. Very similar to a hatchling trying to form words.

Viberian raised an eyeridge at the sound, and was very disturbed to note that the Necrolite mimicked him. Shifting his eyes at Volteer and Cyril, he saw the Ice Guardian's light slowly approaching. Turning back, he saw that the Necrolite had not moved. Dark curiosity formed within Viberian, and he raised a wing.

After a second or two, the Necrolite raised a withered, torn wing. The Fire Guardian took it down a moment later, the Necrolite following suit. Attempting again, this time with a claw, he saw that his actions were copied without flaw. A spectral shiver ran down his spine, grim thoughts forming in his mind.

Cyril arrived just as Viberian placed his claw down, and looked ready to attack. The Necrolite switched focus to Cyril, tilting head with strands of interest. Viberian shook his head at Cyril, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Cyril, attacking wouldn't be the best option." Viberian informed the Guardian what he had just discovered. He swore that the blue dragon's eyes had grown to double size and were about to pop out of his head.

"Shadows of life is common in freshly turned...but if what you say is true..." Cyril raised a wing in a test. Sure enough, the Necrolite copied with a chirp. "This is quite possibly the worst thing to discover."

"Why do you say that?" Viberian had a dim feeling as to what the answer would be.

"Necrolites are bad enough when they swarm," Cyril explained in a hushed tone, "However, they are predictable. If what we are learning is applied to other Necrolites..."

"...Oh." Viberian couldn't think of anything else to say. Opening his mouth to speak, something else came out. It was like a rasp. Cyril stared at him with confusion, but Viberian did not make a sound. Fringed terror began to creep on them like a plague as they slowly turned attention back to the Necrolite.

The Necrolite had its rotten, infested jaw opened. It was moving up and down, but not in a chewing animation. No...no it was far, far worse. Guttural noises and chirps came from the Necrolite, but there was no mistaking it; the Necrolite was learning to speak by watching them!

"We need to get out...now." Cyril slowly started to back away. "Keep one eye on that and follow me."

The Necrolite made a sound that sounded much like 'me', prompting Viberian to follow the instruction without hesitation. Grasping his lantern, Viberian walked backwards for a bit, seeing no movement. Adjusting himself so he would be walking forward, he saw that the Necrolite had appeared very close, but froze mid-walk, blank eyes staring into his. To make matters worse, he saw the rotten claw of another at the end of his vision.

The sound of crumbling from above drew his attention for a brief second, and when he looked back, the Necrolite was within five meters. The head was tilted, and Viberian could see the necrotized, black flesh underneath and bits of the spine, allowing him to see the gooey inside of his neck. Muscle dripped from the chest, hanging down to the elbows; the sight made Viberian want to vomit.

"Volteer, please tell me you found it." Cyril approached the lightning Guardian.

"I'm in the right section, but no." Volteer shifted between books at a rapid pace.

"Well, you have two minutes." Cyril said harshly. "Necrolites have begun to swarm around us, and they are learning to talk!"

"They're what now?"

"Viberian and I witnessed one mimicking our actions."

Dead silence fell over the yellow dragon for the first time since Viberian knew him. Stealing a glance, he saw that Volteer had doubled his pace, eyes crackling with electricity as his claws moved with volatile energy. Viberian shifted focus again and saw that there were now five Necrolites. He caught one staring from behind a shelf two meters away, this time belonging to a freshly turned female. All of them had their eyes set on the three dragons, and he heard more landing. The floor groaned under them.

"Got five...no, six on this side." Viberian glanced up to see a Necrolite on the ceiling.

"Three on the other side." Cyril reported.

"I found Body and Soul Volume One, so three should be close." Volteer stated a second later.

The floor gave another shuddering groan as more piled on, and he swore he heard loud cracking. Viberian noted a large split in the ground beneath his claws and instinctively spread his wings. Then, a tiny shout of excitement came from Volteer; he found the book!

"Quickly, we must return!" Volteer announced, shooing them off of the platform. "Zim zim wallabim!"

The moment he said that, the Necrolite before gave off a chirp and all of them began to swarm. Viberian wasted no time in breathing a jet of flame, burning two Necrolites and setting nearby books on fire. The air behind him grew frigid, and bolts shot wildly in all directions, surprisingly missing Viberian.

There was no winning this, though, and all three knew it. They took to the skies, pushing off with great force. The sound of cracking could be heard the moment they flew as the floor gave way from the starting conflict, sending a flaming Necrolite into the abyss below. Three spread their wings, but the rest were too rotten to fly and fled to the remaining ground.

"We'll tunnel them in the pass!" Volteer shouted to Viberian, who had gotten ready to fight. "Fly, as your life depends on it!"

Viberian channeled of his energy into his wings, flying as fast as he could. Ripples of cries could be heard from down below, where the shadows began to move. Viberian's eyes widened; they were literally resting above an army! What in the hell was keeping them safe now?

Landing on the cliff roughly, Viberian followed up behind once again. This time, he spat flame behind him, burning the flesh off of a rapidly approaching Necrolite. The skeletal remains continued to surge forward, letting out a scream that would haunt Viberian for years to come. In fact, the burning seemed to accelerate the speed of the Necrolite! Gritting his fangs, he stopped for a moment and swung his tail at the Necrolite, knocking the head clean off and sending the body crumbling into another Necrolite, igniting it.

A wall of frost struck the wall before him, slowly forming a barrier of thick ice. Cyril stood behind him, eyes narrowed in concentration. After a moment, he stopped creating the barrier and urged Viberian to run. The two of them scrambled up the stairs, nearly slipping on the uneven steps.

The top of the stairs could not come faster. When they reached the safety of the camp, Viberian wasted no time in assisting the two in shutting the door. In fact, Viberian placed more rocks before the door in an adrenaline-fueled frenzy. It was only until Cyril placed a claw on his shoulder did he finally begin to calm.

"Calm yourself, Viberian," Cyril's voice had surprising warmth to it, "We're safe for now."

"You call being on top of an army of Necrolites _safe_?" Viberian wheezed out. "We need to move, now!"

"I agree," Volteer said breathlessly, "This is no longer the safe haven we thought it was." Then, he glanced down at the book. "We should alert Terrador and begin this ritual ASAP..."


	5. Cries of Rebirth

**I forgot to update here, didn't I? yep, I did. Last update I will do here, since no one reads it. If someone proves me wrong, I will gladly update.**

The three Guardians made their way across the refugee, grim-faced and silent. Viberian didn't need to ask what was on their minds; it was on all of theirs. He fidgeted nervously, unsure of how they were going to handle the situation. Simply calling out and having others evacuate would not do; the commotion would tip off the Necrolites and it would be a massacre all over again.

Still, they had to do something. Maybe Terrador has another hidden passage. If not, they would have to brave Warfang and pray that Malefor was not nearby. Even if he wasn't, there may be an army of Necrolites ready to barge down their door from the outside as well. He wasn't sure if they had a hive-mind, but he wouldn't past it. On top of that, they may even have a spy in here! It wouldn't be the first time a vampire infiltrated!

Shaking his head, he let go of the paranoia. It would do no good to have a panic attack. He just had to hope that the ritual worked and Cynder could tell them how put a stop to this. Yeah, that was it! He just had to keep calm, and this nightmare would be over soon.

Reaching the Guardian Chambers, they found Terrador waiting inside. He greeted them with an enthusiastic smile, but it slowly faded once his eyes darted between them. Volteer opened his mouth to speak, but found that he couldn't. Viberian found himself in a similar situation.

"Terrador...we need to talk." Cyril spoke softly. "The library...it's...it's overrun."

Terrador's jaw slacked in shock. "How? That place is sealed off! I expected a few, but overrun?"

"There is an army down there." Viberian mustered the will to speak. "We were attacked by a swarm...a swarm that is learning to talk."

Terrador went silent, having to sit down and hold a claw to his head. He shook his head in disbelief, glancing between them as if hoping it were a horrible prank. When he saw that it wasn't, Terrador turned to Cynder's frozen body and then back to Volteer.

"Yes, I have the book." Volteer's muzzle tugged a thin smile. "We should waste no time; I will explain to you everything after we perform the ritual."

"You better." Terrador grumbled as he and Viberian dragged Cynder out. Her scales took a frosty hue, and were considerably paler. The same sleep-like expression rested on her face, and Viberian had to admit...she did look at peace. It felt wrong to bring her back.

Volteer instructed that she be placed on top of the pool of visions. Once she was set down, Cyril approached and gently shattered the ice. Cynder's rigid body dipped into the pools like a ragdoll, but she remained intact. The wound, however, remained open. He approached it, fire flicking in his maw, but Volteer stopped him.

"If this ritual works as it says it does," Volteer told him, eyes never leaving the book, "Then it should heal the wound."

"I'll trust you on this one." Viberian allowed the flames to fizzle.

"When I indicate to you, I want you to breathe your element at what appears." Volteer informed the others. "It cannot be at once, and it has to be with extreme precession.

Volteer then ordered them to stand around her, as if in a circle. The tension it the air made Viberian stiffen...what was he supposed to do if it didn't? Give her third degree burns to seal it up? He really prayed that Volteer was right; that was the last thing he wanted to do again.

Then, the Electric Guardian glanced between them all and started to chant. It sounded like a dead language, and the words held great power within them. They shook Viberian's bones, vibrated his chest cavity, and made his brain feel like putty. He quickly darted his eyes to Cyril and Terrador; judging from their reactions, they felt the same.

Above Cynder, a tiny little orb appeared. It was like a bubble under the sea; clear and empty. Viberian was taken aback slightly, eyeridge raising and having the overwhelming desire to touch it. He didn't know how he managed to surprise the urge.

Volteer suddenly spoke in their language, indicating towards Terrador. "The earthy prison from which you left shall once again serve as your anchor, keeping you steady whilst on your path to rebirth."

On cue, Terrador channeled raw, earthen energy that rose from his claws and cumulated in his maw. Then, he softly released it in a vibrant green stream, striking the sphere. It penetrated the outside barrier, filling and expanding the orb. Volteer instructed him to stop, chanting once more before turning to Cyril.

"The chill of death may have claimed your body, but it will also offer you clarity and perspective on events past." Volteer's words caused a small rumble. Either that it was the Necrolites beneath them. "Fear not the cold, for the ice you see grants a chance to look upon yourself and ponder."

A frigid cone of glittering ice struck the orb, chilling the room and forming an icy barrier around the orb. Ice dripped and spikes formed, and the element Terrador gave began to wildly churn. Viberian steeled himself; either Volteer or himself were next. His forked tongue licked his scaled maw in anticipation, claws spreading to grip the ground.

Then, Volteer focused on him. "Through fire may you be purged of any ailment, and may its flames keep your body warm and light your way."

Viberian exhaled a warming blaze, covering the orb as the fire tangled all around, seeping between the cracks in the ice and meshing with Terrador's element. The orb swelled as a maelstrom kicked up inside, the elements raging and blending together. It was a beautiful sight, and the ice amplified the colors in such a way that it almost looked like one of the drawings of a planet he saw. The urge to touch it grew stronger.

"Finally, the final gift I bestow upon you is perhaps the greatest one could give any; the spark of life." Volteer ended his ritual by striking at the orb with a bolt, charging the core and causing pure elemental energy fork out.

Volteer ended the ritual by lowering the orb with a wave of his claw. Viberian expected it to collide with Cynder's chest, but was surprised to note that it passed through like a specter. Within the blink of an eye, he noticed a change. Her body shimmered with earthy light before flickering to an icy scheme.

Once the warm colors of fire washed over, Viberian saw that her wound had begun to cauterize. Scar tissue formed, and the area directly around the wound did not regrow scales. However, Viberian did not shed concern at the moment; he was jittery with excitement; the ritual...it was working!

Electrical currents ran through her body as the glow around her faded, Volteer letting out a breathless gasp. Viberian looked at Cynder, jaw dropping at what he saw; she was breathing! Unbelievable! Viberian stole a glance at the other Guardians to see their reaction, finding them doing the same. At first, they chuckled, then roaring laughter burst out. For once, Viberian held a candle of hope!

Cynder stirred, body cricking and snapping back to life. Her jaw parted slightly, and her eyes moved underneath the lids. Her silver talons gripped the ground, feeling towards the pool. Cynder's tail twitched, the metal blade touching a pebble. Then, her emerald eyes snapped open.

Viberian instantly knew something was wrong.

"Cynder, can you hear me?" Volteer cast his gaze on her. Cynder's vision switched to him, body trembling as if experiencing a nightmare. Fear was very apparent in her wide, confused eyes.

"Nononononono...Spyro don't let him do this, why are you standing there..." Cynder spoke rapidly as her breathing accelerated, quickly climbing to her claws and backing up, fearful of the Guardians.

"Cynder, what are you-?" Terrador was cut off by her nearly screaming voice.

"Spyro, why are you standing there...why are you standing there...why did you let him..." Cynder screamed at the top of her lungs. "WHY DID YOU LET HIM KILL ME?"

A banshee-like shriek emitted from her as her jaw widened to painful levels, eyes cast up at the ceiling. Viberian was terrified to approach her, listening to the ear-shattering scream she gave with despair. She kept going...it was by far the most terrifying thing he had ever witnessed. Her claws dug into her scales, leaving violent wounds that dripped dark blood, and he swore that she was going to rip out her vocal cords.

Then, she bolted out, crying all the way. All four hesitated before chasing after, Viberian somehow finding himself at point. She wasn't hard to follow despite her shrieks falling silent. They reached the center, finding Cynder glaring at them from behind a flame. A few refugees stood aback in confusion, eyes darting between the Guardians and Cynder.

"Don't you dare come near me..." Cynder rasped with bared fangs.

"Fine." Viberian clamped Volteer's mouth shut before he could speak.

Cynder's eyes narrowed with suspicion, glancing at Terrador next. "Why do you look so familiar?" She snapped at him. "Who are you?"

Terrador took a step back, startled. "Cynder...it's me, Terrador. The Earth Guardian...the one who you placed second in command after..."

"After what?" Cynder snarled after Terrador trailed off.

"After...after you and Spyro." Terrador suddenly finished. Viberian was quick to note that he left out the major detail.

Cynder gripped her head with a claw at the mention of Spyro. Viberian went to cover his ears again, but the scream did not emerge. Rather, she seemed...distant. Lost. Confused, even. Her muzzle grew soft for a moment, staring down at her claw.

"I...the name...it sounds so familiar..." Cynder whispered; Viberian had to strain his ears to hear her. "This place...it...I remember walking here…but the details, they..." She bared her fangs as if in pain, both claws clutching her skull.

The Guardians stared at each other. Dread crawled through them, consuming the hope they had once the ritual worked. Cyril went to speak, finding that he could not. Hell, even Volteer was strangely silent. Only Viberian and Terrador possessed the ability to speak, it seemed.

"Cynder...what do you remember?" Viberian hesitated on asking.

Cynder focused on him. "I...I remember fragments. I know my name, I know my element is Air, but other than that...it's foggy. I remember some of this place, and everyone but you is familiar...no offense."

"I was just initiated to Guardianship, so I can't blame you." Viberian took a tense step forward. Her eyes instantly darted to his claw, and he spread his wings in submission.

"What is your name?"

"Viberian."

Seeming satisfied, Cynder turned the Guardians and asked for their names. One by one they answered, and some semblance of recognition crossed her muzzle. Once Cyril said his name, Cynder turned her gaze back to Viberian, head tilted slightly. Her eyes moved up and down as if inspecting before speaking once more.

"Your name...it's different." She commented a moment later. "Yet...I know you. I swear I do. Your face looks so familiar and-urgh..." Cynder grunted in pain. "No...I can't place it...I know it...but I can't place it..."

A cold feeling washed over Viberian as he became rigid. The other Guardians peered at him with mild interest, but he shrugged as if not knowing. Only Volteer kept his gaze, narrowing on his face. Then, to his horror, they went wide. He could hear Volteer cursing under his breath about how big a fool he was.

Cynder started to walk, but her claws trembled. Terrador, being the closest, was already there to stabilize her. She almost reacted with hostility, but accepted his help. He spoke softly to her, and while Viberian couldn't hear every word, he knew that he was going to get her somewhere safe. He lured her back to the Guardian chambers, Cyril following.

Volteer's wing stopped Viberian. "The likeness is uncanny now that my eyes are open."

Viberian quelled the rage burning inside at the comment. "I highly suggest you keep your mouth shut about this."

Volteer jerked his head back in surprise. "O-of course, but I don't see why..."

"Take my word for it," Viberian pressed his muzzle close to Volteer's, fire gleaming in his eyes, "That bastard didn't even deserve the title of Guardian after what he did...T"


End file.
